To “celebrate” the fact that today is Halloween, I’ve been mildly encouraged (by the other half) to share a poem that I wrote a few months ago.
I should point out that I am definitely not a poet. As a writer, I am more comfortable writing prose than poetry, so it isn’t particularly a great piece. I should also point out that the poem is not finished, so it’s very “sketchy”, if that makes sense.
There once was a house that sat high on a hill
Lonely and quiet, it gave all of the locals quite a chill.
With it’s darkened windows, and unused chimney
It took great joy, in watching the small children flee.
But the house was not as empty as some might think,
For inside the house, was an animal all covered in pink.
The last of his kind, Hickleberry is an oddly happy soul,
Spending his nights, dancing around an old washing line pole.
He isn’t a mouse, and he isn’t a cat
He most certainly is not a Vampire Bat
Hickleberry is proud to be just that
For he is nothing more than a little Pitter Pat.
With his great big ears, and his teeny tiny nose
Peeping through his long pink fur, are ten tubby little toes.
Whatever would they say, if only they knew
That Hickleberry is quite soundly asleep inside the loo.
What the neighbours may think are the cries of a ghost or a ghoul
Are actually the sounds of Hickleberry attending School.
He likes the big books, up high on the shelf
With Maths, and Science and things for him to teach himself.
Okay, so it’s not very scary, but I’m a fan of writing short stories that start out as one thing, and turn into something else, because nothing is ever as it seems, so this is very in keeping with that style 😉
What do you think? 🙂